Jaxon Sighed And Picked At The Cupcake In His Hand. The Small Tray Of Chocolate Treats Was His Mama’s

jaxon sighed and picked at the cupcake in his hand. the small tray of chocolate treats was his mama’s way of being cheeky about his birthday. it was silly, feeling like he’d grown out of birthdays, but after 8 years of them in afghanistan— the novelty had definitely worn off. now all the happy birthday texts, facebook notifications, and voicemails just served as a reminder that he was 31 and only 2 years into his career. in any case, he definitely didn’t need this many fucking cupcakes. 

“ please, for the love of jesus, eat one of these cupcakes. or all of them. my mama made these jus’ to annoy me. ”

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hinemoanax:

Kora just about jumps out of their skin when they hear a noise on the porch of their shitty little bungalow. They were curled up on the sofa watching what was probably the tenth Inuyasha episode of the night (they’d lost control of their life a long time ago). They should’ve been asleep as they had an early start for school, but a dream about drowning had cut the whole sleep thing short. That whole crushing-darkness, burning lungs and numb limbs schtick really didn’t float their boat. Waking up in a cold sweat with that anxiety-slash-nausea-slash-panic feeling in their throat didn’t help either.

Kora slinks off the sofa when there’s a knock at the door, pausing their show as they let the blanket snake down their legs to fall on the floor. They scuttle over to the door - they spend a moment trying to peak out the window at whoever just jumpscared them, but between the flyscreens, the bars and the dirt (they didn’t clean the outside of the house, fam) they couldn’t make out shit. The broken porch light didn’t help in the slightest. 

They sink the chain before they crack the door open, just enough to peak out, squinting in the low light.

“Uh. Hi?”

Hinemoanax:

[ @theprodigalsoldier ]

he was a cop. he was a good cop. good at his job, and cared a whole fucking lot. and he didn’t want to put that in jeopardy. and yet... his fighting had started getting worse recently. along with his drinking. it was something he refused to examine, or acknowledge, or deal with. so it just kept getting worse. usually, he could chalk up the after affects of his scraps as bumps and bruises he got on the job, or while sparing in the gym. but— this was a little more severe than a black eye. and why he was showing up at kora’s place way too god damn late. he couldn’t go to anyone else with this, because they’d make him go to the hospital. and he couldn’t risk the PD finding out. he felt bad coming by like this, with request for such a huge favor... but something told him kora would help. 

“ heyyy, kora, ” he said quietly, holding a towel against the wound on his lower back.  “ i’m real sorry for comin’ so late like this. but, you were closest, and i— uh, i need your help. if you don’t like blood... tell me now, and i’ll go. ”

Hinemoanax:

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marclarkin:

“Damn, I ain’t had a good sleep like that since that bitch took my house,” Marc remarked as he came out of an extra room in Jax’s place. He’d been chasing a new bounty and had been in the neighborhood when the two of them had tried to out beat each other up. In the end, Marc had left him handcuffed to an iron fence outside and went into his cousin’s place to get cleaned up. Too tired to go home, he’d knocked out in his cousin’s place. Marc combed his hand through his hair and walked to the kitchen, opening the milk and taking a large chug from it.

Marclarkin:

@theprodigalsoldier​

marc showing up at all hours of the night, in various states of injury, duress, and pulverization, had stopped being surprising long ago. after all, jaxon did the same, after bar fights that got out of hand. marc had a little more of an excuse for his injuries, with the whole “doing good” and getting paid thing. jaxon didn’t complain (much). he’d rather marc come here, somewhere safe, then another place, where sharks could smell blood in the water. (not that jax worried about marc taking care of himself. it was more that general, perpetual state of worry that seemed the norm for the marine vet.)  sat at the kitchen table, jaxon leaned back and sipped at his coffee as marc emerged from the guest bedroom. “ yer lucky i’m not my mama. usin’ profanity and drinkin’ out of the carton. that’d get you slapped at the very least. if not fuckin’ kicked out, ” he chuckled, flicking a piece of toast crust at marc’s back. “ there’s coffee. though i really ought’a check you for a concussion first. ”

Marclarkin:

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tylerbeyond:

“your mom sends you cupcakes to annoy you?” tyler asked, skeptically, but taking two cupcakes nonetheless. “i wish my mom annoyed me with home made cupcakes. my mom just annoys me with complaining about why i don’t get along with my grandfather.” he began licking the icing off the first cupcake. “so what’s the occassion? like, literally to annoy you, or a congratulations maybe?” his wide eyes and bouncing leg made it seem like he’d already had five cupcakes. “and why do you look so bummed out?” this time there was more concern in his voice.

Tylerbeyond:

“ she’s fuckin’... sneaky, ” jax scowled slightly. he knew he was being ridiculous. it was cupcakes, and it was his birthday. but his mama’s slightly sarcastic smile as she sent him off with cupcakes and made the girls sing happy birthday to him over breakfast told him that she was at least slightly teasing him.  “ what’s th’ deal with your grandfather? ” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him. tyler seemed to enjoy the cupcake, and jax forced himself to stop being a grump and give it a try.  “ eh. it’s my birthday, ” jax shrugged, pinching off a piece of the cupcake to taste. they were good, of course. but his mama knew he wasn’t super fond of sweets.  “ jus’ not a big fan of my birthday, ya know? which, i know. makes me sounds like a fuckin’ buzzkill. but i dunno. ”

Tylerbeyond:

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tatemcallisterr:

Tate saw it coming, Jaxon’s careful first suggestion. It was the most logical thing to tell someone in his current state, and it certainly wasn’t the first time anyone had mentioned the idea to him. However, the way Jaxon proposed the idea was exactly why Tate wouldn’t do it. They both knew Tate wasn’t one to open up easily, or at all really. He used to be different. Talking about how he was feeling used to just come naturally to him. But a lot of things that used to come naturally were just not as easy anymore. “I’m not going to therapy.” Was all Tate said in response, completely shut down to even thinking about the suggestion seriously. He didn’t want to relive those days in his dreams and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to talk about them either. “It’s not fucked up, it’s just…stressed.” Tate decided before quirking a brow as Jaxon went on. “Oh yeah? You know Jonny, huh? Small world.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if anything would take the place of drinking. Although it might help me sleep for more than five hours.” It might also help him eat a decent meal once in a while, but he left that part out. Jaxon had enough worry in his eyes looking at him, Tate didn’t want to give him anything else. 

Tatemcallisterr:

jaxon fully expected that reaction. even their issues in the past couldn’t erase the countless nights they spent on patrol together, and jaxon knew tate. then and now. they’d both changed in ways they hated to think about. he sighed to himself, and sat up a little straighter, leaning his elbows on the table and closer in.  “ look, man. i get it, okay? i don’t talk to them about my shit either. ‘cause i really don’t fuckin’ wanna drag all that shit up. but... they got counselors, who just give you suggestions, ya know? like they recommended me to a training program for my dogs, so they can help when i get overwhelmed. and they gave me a list of things to try when i’m in a bad place. jus’— somethin’ to think about, ” he shrugged, trailing off as he leaned back and sipped at his iced tea. it wasn’t something he wanted to pressure tate into. but he also didn’t want tate to blindly block out everything that had a possibility of helping. “ well i hope yer liver relaxes, ” jax replied, just barely smiling, hoping to get tate to relax some too.  “ yeah... we were best friends all through high school. remember i told you, how he went away to art school, got involved in sketchy shit, and we had a falling out. that’s jonny. same jonny you know, apparently. but smoking does help with the sleep thing. while your liver is healing, ya know? plus, i’d pay good money t’ see you stoned out of yer mind. ”

Tatemcallisterr:

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tatemcallisterr:

It was hard to talk about, even with someone like Jaxon who could relate so strongly to what he was going through. That was a big reason Tate kept insisting he didn’t need to see a therapist or go to any support groups. Talking about things had never helped him deal with them anyways. “I know it’ll probably never go away completely —- I just wish it would get better. I’m fucking tired.” Tate knew he wasn’t the first person to go to war and come back having nightmares about it, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last. But when he wakes up at night, alone, in an empty house, it’s hard not to feel isolated. “I am for the most part. Doc just found some problems with my liver when they were doing blood tests. It’s not a big deal.” At least that’s what his doctor had told him, it wouldn’t be a big deal as long as he didn’t drink so often. Which was proving difficult when it was his go-to coping mechanism. 

Tatemcallisterr:

yeah, he knew that feeling well. too well. it made his chest ache for his friend. and it made him angry that he didn’t know how to help tate. especially when tate was so adverse to help.  “ they say therapy is supposed to... i dunno. do somethin’, ya know? ” the suggestion was tentative and gentle, like he knew tate wouldn’t respond well to it. but he had to try. there had to be something. even if talking didn’t help the famously tight-lipped man, maybe there was something else they could recommend. at least, that’s what jaxon hoped.  “ yer liver being fucked up doesn’t sound like ‘not a big deal’. and that fuckin’ sucks. who else is gonna appreciate shitty whiskey with me? ” he teased gently, a small smirk flickering at the corner of his lips. “ oh, we got a friend in common. jonny. maybe in place of drinkin’, get stoned with him. ” the suggestion was only half serious, and the light in jaxon’s eyes said as much. he was trying to be helpful. trying to make tate feel like there was a little hope. despite how fucking tired he felt. 

Tatemcallisterr:

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wilycoyotc:

The university professor glances to his side. He can only smile in response to Jaxon. He doesn’t speak until he’s had another sip of his drink. 

Wilycoyotc:

“Seen you coming in with a few girls. Don’t tell me you’re out looking the break hearts,” he teased the male. “All routes to my place are shut down. Plus, my kids are in New York– THANKFULLY. What were you doing before the weather turned to shut?”

“ oh, yeah. i’m using the storm of a decade to fuck off helping people and get my dick sucked, ” he chuckled softly, shaking his head and passing a hand over his wet hair. he was basically soaked, and it was really started to fucking bother him.  “ and this is a warm place to ride it out... with whiskey. a nice perk. if you want a ride back to yer place, i can pull some strings. i’m goin’ on hour twelve of a night shift, and i’m tired of dealing with panicked tourists. ”

Wilycoyotc:

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theprodigalsoldier-blog - ♠ attente tourmente ♠
♠ attente tourmente ♠

[Jaxon Benjamin] Sawyer. 30. Police Officer. [Ex] USMC. [Ex] MMA. Now: Las Vegas, NVThen: DeRidder, LA. ♠♠♠ "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it." -Isaiah 30:15♠♠♠ {rpg character}

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